School of Life and Death
by AmadErik
Summary: Susan Kay based story about little Erik going to a boarding school.
1. Farewell

Madeleine helplessly walked up and down in the salon while Father Mansart was saying a few prayers silently. A newly learned technically challenging etude of the just passed away Paganini made its way through the attic and softly accompanied the scene taking place down there.

\- If I was aware of the solution to this matter, I would solve it. - Madeleine sighed sadly.

\- He can't stay here any longer. - The priest stated blankly. - Understand that it is a matter of safety. Both for you and him.

The priest was referring to the happenings a few nights ago when the window was smashed again and some angry villagers were trying to attack the house. If the Father did not interfere, God knows what could have happened. Erik repaired the window, but it wasn't about that broken glass, and everyone was aware of that. The villagers did not like to share Boscherville with a monster and would do anything to make it disappear from there- even murder, as the priest was afraid of the worst.

\- What do you expect of me, Father? - The woman lowered her head and dried her sweaty hands nervously in her apron, trying to avoid eye contact.

\- You should have made sure Erik wasn't able to go wandering in the village at night. - He sighed.

\- What else in Heaven's name should I have done other than locking him in his room and putting bars on his window which he easily gets rid of? How could I have known he jumps out of the window and risks a fatal fall just to go outside?

\- With a personality like Erik's… - The priest waved in the air. - But… it is not the point to blame anyone for the happenings. The only thing that matters is we have to send him away.

\- To where? - Madeleine threw both of her arms in the air with frustration. - I have already threatened him if he won't stop his laughable ghost plays and making mischief, he will be sent to a mental asylum.

\- I have considered a better solution. - Father Mansart sighed. - We shall send him to school.

\- What? - The woman gasped and shook her head in utter disbelief. - Father, exactly you were the one to tell me not to send Erik among other people, masked or not. How could he attend school with other children?

\- I know a boarding school far enough from here, with relatively few children and only nuns and priests. He won't need to be among a too big crowd.

\- Father, for God's sake. Erik can already read, write, (even if he does not have an acceptable penmanship), solve complicated mathematical equations, play music like an adult, designs structures and has architectural knowledge like an engineer. What could he learn at school?

\- I agree that Erik's lexical knowledge is way higher than the average children's, but there are many things Erik could learn at school.

\- Name three of these fields, please. - Madeleine sighed with irritation.

\- Teamwork, empathy, compassion, taking care of others, handling his own and others emotions. The issues he isn't perfect with.

\- I know you are right in a way. But… I am afraid…

\- Madeleine, you would be freed of a burden you have to carry for years. Erik will feel better. And s will you.

The mother did not know how to word her feelings regarding the issue they were talking about wit the Priest. She did not know how to say she was worrying over Erik's safety and well-being, despite her mixed, but mostly negative feelings towards her son. He knew the Father was right about Erik would need to learn how to act towards other people, and maybe at school they would succeed in making him learn to behave. But what shall happen to him once they discover the deformity? Will other children hurt him? It isn't the best idea to send him to a bunch of children to a religious school, especially since Erik's sudden deviation and rebellion towards Catholicism after Father Mansart explained him animals had no souls. He will kick the church to pieces, however nice of a building it might be, and protest against prayers or the Bible anytime he would be forced to pray. She could not make him attend any more masses celebrated at home either nor to talk to Father Mansart ever again, not even by only one-word sentences. Is it afe to send Erik with his temper among other people at all?

But the Priest did not wait for her to agree. He softly informed Madeleine to prepare Erik's most important belongings as soon as possible, because he was going to take him the next week and by that time he was going to register him at that school and talk the priests about the boy being a hard case and ask them to pay extra attention on him.

\- Do you honestly think it is a step we need to take? - Madeleine asked with a monotonous intonation.

\- To tell the truth, I don't know if this solution is the best one, but better than nothing. - The Father replied honestly, then left.

When Madeleine turned back from the door she locked she gasped loudly, noticing Erik standing straight at the top of the stairs, eyeing her suspiciously.

\- What are you doing there? Listening again?- She attacked, feeling it was the safest thing to do, and maybe she could make the boy afraid of her.

\- Standing. - Erik responded matter of factly, gently lifting up Sasha to help her descend the stairs, which act the poor old dog wasn't able to do any more all by herself.

\- Don't you have any more useful things to do? - Madeleine snapped.

\- Currently no. You could give me an occupation, Mother, by explaining what did the priest do in my house?

\- Whose house, you little snot? - Madeleine lifted up her hand to hit Erik, but changed her mind in the last minute. Erik gently put Sasha down and pet her fur by her ears.

\- Go, my dear, try to take a walk. I help you if needed.

\- I asked you to repeat the sentence about whose house were you referring to. - Madeleine out her hands on her hips, but did not dare to walk closer to Erik, who was now tall enough to reach up to her shoulder. Deep down in her heart she was afraid Erik might hit back one day in the not too far future.

\- I am not arguing with you over something so trivial. I am the man of the house, you not having a husband and being only a woman. I am now old enough to replace broken windows and protect thehouse if needed. Who else should be the host, if not me? And I have the right to deny anyone I hate to enter, and I tell you it was the last time the priest was here.

These words were extremely frightening from the mouth of an eight-year old child with an angel's voice, which sounded both so unearthly powerful and demanding that the mother wasn't even able to yell at him, like how she usually did. She froze in her place and position and was trying to collect her thoughts regarding how to tell Erik about the news. What if he simply refuses to go? What if he attacks both her and the Father when he wants to take him away?

\- Erik, I am sorry for what I have said. - She started the speech, hoping it will make him feel less angry and more cooperative.

\- Are you ill? - Erik turned back to face her and leaned closer. - Take some laudanum and go to bed.

He was talking to her like he was an adult and she was the snotty child who was unable to take care of herself without his guidance. It annoyed her, but she did not show it.

\- Why do you ask if I was ill? I feel well.

\- I guessed as you have never apologized to me about anything before, so I presumed your sentence was due to delirious state of your mind.

\- I was trying to be polite, Erik.

\- Good.

Erik did not pay more attention to her, but was trying to locate Sasha, who was slowly walking around in the garden.

\- Erik, what are you planning? - She started over the conversation.

\- Why do you ask? - The boy did not turn to face her, only was listening. - Do you have any orders? Chores?

\- No, not for today. I meant what were you planning to do with your life? When you grow up…

\- I want to be an architect. You know it well.

\- You need schooling to achieve that.

\- I know. - Erik sighed with irritation. - It is you who prevent me going to school.

\- What if you had the opportunity to go to school? - She asked temptingly.

Erik turned towards her and walked a few steps closer, and for the first time in long months, Madeleine was able to see hope and happiness shining in his mismatched deformed eyes.

\- Nothing would give me more joy. - He stated with a presumable smile, thankfully hidden from her eyes by his mask.

\- Even if it meant you needed to leave the house?

\- I don't mind leaving this place. - Erik shrugged, nearly dropping this sentence at her, casually.

\- What if you couldn't even come back in holidays?

\- I would not even want to once I am freed from here. - Erik's honesty kicked Madeleine in the very heart, she knew he did not like living with her, but she would not think the boy seemingly did not show any more affection and longing towards her like when he was smaller.

\- There will be a time when you are going to cry for me yet, Erik, and wished you were still here in this house. - She spat out with hurt feelings and ego.

\- I doubt it. - Erik replied coldly. - When shall I leave?

\- Next week. - Madeleine barked with an unfriendly expression. - The sooner the better.

\- I agree.

Erik walked upstairs to pack his most necessary belongings, even though he still had a week to prepare. The sooner he finishes packing, the sooner he might leave the house.

Packing wasn1t easy, as he later was informed about there were only limited things he could take with himself, as he had limited storage at school. Only one nightstand and a drawer. Not much, but the most necessary things will fit. He finally decided to take his most favorite books, including the one about ventriloquism he received as an only Birthday present from Mlle Perrault, a few most favorite sheet musics, some architectural works, art albums and some sheets of paper so he will have supply for drawing for a time. He was told not to pack clothes as he was going to receive them from the school, but he packed some masks so he will have more to wear if one happens to get dirty or accidentally ripped.

In the morning of the departure he was standing at the gate, holding a suitcase and his violin case, eagerly waiting for the coach to take him away from the place of his sufferings.

Madeleine walked to him from behind, and called out to him.

\- Erik…

The boy turned to face his mother for one last time, and with surprise he saw she was holding something towards him.

\- What's that?

\- Take it. - Madeleine replied, showing him a pocket watch.

Erik did not believe his eyes. He was asking for an own watch for years, but Mother never granted his wish, saying he would disassemble it in no time, just like hers. Erik was hurt by that silly statement. She should know it was a long time ago when he did that and he was now able to reassemble any watch he wanted to.

\- Why do I receive this?

\- It was your father's. - Madeleine replied dryly. - Take care of it.

\- I will. - Erik bowed to her politely. - Thank you.

He took the watch and attached it to his waistcoat, looking at it with a touched expression.

Madeleine wanted to say something nice to her son, as she felt it was the last time they saw each other. He was going to leave and go to a boarding school long long miles away, and it was unlikely she will ever visit him and he will never ever come back for holidays either. The hard thing was she did not know what to say without sounding awkward. "I love you" is simply a lie and Erik would be aware of it. What to say to a child you never truly loved, only pitied slightly?

\- Be a good boy. - She said finally, trying her best to look into his eyes. - Don't bring a shame on my name.

\- I will try my best. - Erik responded seriously.

\- That is the most we could pray for. - She agreed.

\- Mama…

It was the first time in years Erik used the word "Mama" again, he did not call Madeleine that since he grew out of early childhood, he only addressed her "Mother" lately.

\- Yes? - Madeleine looked down at him, waiting for what he had to say.

Erik fell silent again for a few seconds. He wasn't sure mother wanted to hear any parting words from him, and the words "I love you" sure wouldn't mean anything to her when she hated him. Why to make anyone miserable here by saying melodramatic good-bye sentences?

\- Please take care of Sasha and tell her I am sorry I can't take her with me. I told her already but…

\- I will. - She replied shortly, putting a cap on Erik's head to protect him from the rain which started falling.

The coach arrived with Father Mansart inside. When Erik noticed the priest he made a face and nearly did not get in, but his urge to go to school finally defeated his hatred towards the traitor, and he climbed inside with a sigh. He looked out of the window once more to store Mother's picture in his memory forever, and waved to her for one last time.

\- Take care. - Madeleine told him sadly.

\- Will do. - Erik nodded. - Adieu, Mother.

As the coach parted, Madeleine did not know why, but she was unable to walk inside the house until the road was empty again in front of her and she could no longer see even a small dot or shadow of the carriage any longer. She whispered nearly inaudibly in front of herself:

\- Adieu Erik.


	2. The Journey

As the carriage was getting further and further from that prison of a house in Boscherville, Erik at first was only able to repeat in his mind "I am free" for a good half an hour. He did not say anything out loud, but he was grinning widely beneath his mask and if he did not feel any disgust about showing his happiness openly in front of Father Mansart, he would jump around and shout cheerfully about him finally being set free of Mother's strict eyes and he was heading to school where he was going to be surely the best student with his knowledge. Everyone shall be blown away and shocked by his talents, as Professor Guizot also was. He shall receive the best grades and maybe even prizes. Finally they were going to like him and approve of his talents and abilities. He will show Mother she was wrong about not liking him at all. He is a clever and talented child. Everyone has to love him.

After the first wave of happiness and hope overtook him though, and the carriage wasn't even slowing down for a long time, he could not have named the feeling he suddenly had to witness, but it was an unpleasant feeling, for sure. He felt like he wasn't safe, that he was taken to somewhere where he can't see Mother and Sasha, and he just seemed to understand for real that saying goodbye was a final and unchangeable act. He will never return to Boscherville and Mother won't miss him. He knew she must be happy now that she got rid of him. He shall be happy too, not to see her and not to be on her way again, not to poison her life… Why isn't he happy then?

Maybe it is just he missed Sasha. He was slightly upset he wasn't allowed to at least take her with him, and felt himself selfish for the reason he did not wait until she passed away and he left her in her old age when she would need him the most. Mother has not enough patience to feed her from hand. She had aching teeth from time to time and ate very slowly. Even Erik himself was surprised how patient he was towards Sasha, despite his usual impatience and touchiness. With a sigh, he looked out of the window and tried to think of positive things again to get into a better mood.

They were going for more than 3 hours, according to his new pocket watch, when they have stopped for the first time, and he at first thought they were there, but looking outside, he could only see a smaller building which he could not easily identify as a school. It wasn't, as it turned out, he now saw it was an inn. Why were they here when he wanted to go to school?

\- Come, Erik, we are going to have a few bites for lunch.

Mother taught him he was to answer if someone is peaking to him, and he used to receive enormous slaps if he did not respond in time or nicely enough, so he almost felt a slap on his face, thankfully dulled by the mask. Maybe that was the only thing the mask was good for, actually. But even if he was going to receive a slap, he wasn't going to speak to the priest, ever. He swore upon it. Not a word, not even a syllable.

\- Erik, don't be so stubborn, my boy. Come.

He is playing the role of a kind person now, Erik thought to himself. But how could he be kind, when he dared to call Sasha a soulless creature when she is the only one having a soul out of the living beings around him…? Save for maybe Mlle Perrault. She was kind as well.

\- Erik…

The Father sighed a bit of impatiently while Erik was silently sitting on the carriage's seat, clutching not only his arms on his chest, but also his ankles. He made it clear that he wasn't going to go anywhere from that exact spot until they reach their destination. It would be at least good to ask the Father if they were still far away, but no, not even that. He was going to find out how long the journey was when they finally arrived.

\- Erik, I am not asking you again. You have to eat something, do you hear me?

\- I am not hungry.

Erik felt like he broke an important promise, but the stubborn ass won't leave him alone until he says something at last, so he had to squeeze out at least one sentence.

\- If not, then not. - The priest waved in the air with an irritated snort. -But then don't leave the carriage and wait until I return.

Erik did not reply, just leaned his back against the wall, so he couldn't be visible from the window either. Mother told him many times it wasn't a good idea to stand or sit by a window for a long time. Father Mansart turned his back to him and left.

Erik had a lot of time to think, at least he felt it being a long time, and at first, he was just wondering how long does it take to feed a priest, but later he wasn't even ashamed to think about may all of the food he was eating for so long, turn and come out of the priest as fast as possible for making him wait for so long. Why do people have to eat so often? It only took one hour for the Priest to return, but Erik was so impatient and angry by the time he finally appeared again at the carriage that he could have kicked him if he wasn't afraid of him being taken back to Mother's house instantly after such an act. "I hope you enjoyed every bite of it, Father." He thought with a sarcastic little grimace. This was another thing the mask was good for, it hid his facial expressions so he could be sarcastic whenever he wanted to.

They started riding again, thank Heavens. Erik was thinking about new melodies while the ride not to feel the silence between him and the priest too awkward. But the thing was very stubborn and wanted to communicate, may the Devil take him.

\- How do you feel about being schooled, Erik?

\- Good. - He sighed.

\- What do you expect of it, son? - He went on.

\- Don't call me your son. - Erik ordered strictly. - My father is dead.

\- I know. - Father Mansart sighed sadly. - I buried him. But I have every right to address you my son, as I Christened you and I gave your name. Furthermore, I am the one who has to show you the way back towards religion.

\- No one asked you to Christen me, me the least. - Erik retorted, not knowing a better way to avoid further talk than to offend the priest.

\- I know you did not. - Father Mansart wasn't offended, surprisingly, rather he talked patiently. - Erik, you have to know I am sorry for hurting your feelings unintentionally. But I can't teach you lies about religion just to make you feel better. You have to learn you are going to hear things that don't please you and might hurt you. And you need to learn to forgive, as not everyone is hurting you intentionally. If you remain so spiteful, you are going to have a hard life full of sufferings.

Erik's eyes grew wide of surprise, hearing the priest's words, that he apologized to him, and said things which had a reason at least. He had to agree he had a point.

\- What to do to be good? - Erik wondered out loud.

\- Don't talk or think ill about people, for example. No matter how they hurt you or say things about you, Erik, don't hurt them in return. Try to forgive them.

Erik closed his eyes and lowered his head for some seconds, and tried not to fall for the Father's sweet talk, trying to block the words out of his mind, and he wasn't exactly sure what the Father said in the end, but something along the lines "ill talk always receives punishment by God" might have gotten in his mind. If it was true, he would have received some punishment many times, other than Mother's, but there wasn't even need of God to punish him, Mother was always faster and more accurate in sending punishments. If it was true what Mansart said, God shall know about what he thought of the priest a few hours back and would punish him for that. He will never believe sweet lies and never turn to religion ever again, it is only for fools, for mindless sheep. Only sheep need a shepherd. He will be a man of science.

But…

Every decision has its risks, and every skepticism meets a con, at surprisingly accurate times, which facts are enough to scare an insecure child and chase him back to the arms of God, after a rebellious episode… for a time at least.

Just as Erik was wondering of how God's punishment for ill thoughts couldn't be true, he started feeling rather strange. He was sweating and his stomach wasn't in the best of state, he felt he was going to vomit in any seconds, and he only realized at that moment what did he wish for Father Mansart not too long time ago. "Whatever you wish for someone else, it strikes back at you." He heard in his mind, and everything was spinning in front of his eyes…

He did not know if he had finally alerted Father Mansart somehow or the priest realized what was going on with him, but one thing was sure: thankfully he was held by the priest's strong hands at the back of the carriage which had stopped at a field, and the Father was patiently waiting until he was sick and he felt better to be able to go on with the journey. He was surprised the priest could stomach to touch him as he had to remove the mask during his sudden sickness and he even touched him, which he found rather unbelievable.

\- I am sorry. - He whispered after he readjusted the mask.

\- It can happen to anyone, Erik, don't be sorry. You might have motion sickness, but had not enough opportunity to find out before. We are going to stop regularly so you feel better.

\- Why are you so kind to me when I am disgusting and ugly and unkind to you?

\- Erik, that is what I was speaking to you about, don't you remember? I forgave you. I forgive everything you say or do. You are just a child in need of help.

\- Will they help me at school? - He looked up with hope, climbing back into the carriage.

\- I am sure they will, Erik.

With a relieved sigh, he leaned back on the seat to rest after his episode as he was feeling suddenly sleepy. The priest was even so kind to cover him up with his cape and he felt he was unfair with Father Mansart before and sure he was right about God's punishment and the importance of forgiving people.

\- I forgive you too. - He sighed tiredly then closed his eyes.

Father Mansart was examining the sleeping masked child and started praying to God about him. He knew the boy was hard to handle, and his feelings were messed up by Madeleine and the villagers, and partly even by the Father himself, but a hint of love or even compassion does miracles as he saw right at that moment. May God help him calm down, find peace with people and himself, and people to accept and love him as he is. It is a hard thing, but not entirely impossible and hopeless.


	3. First Impressions

Erik wasn't even sure by the time they finally arrived to their destination whether they were still in France or not but Father Mansart kindly informed him they still were among the boarders of the country, so he won't have to be aftraid of being among foreign people. Erik wondered about everyone else other than Mother, Father Mansart, Marie Perrault and Prof. Guizot were foreign to him, so it did not really matter if they were speaking French or not. Erik was able to communicate in Latin and some German other than French by that time so he wasn't really scared of not being able to convey his thoughts to others.

When they arrived, Erik first mistook the building as a fortress, or maybe a prison. Some parts of the building reminded him of roman fortresses with the thick walls and narrow windows, and the high stone fence, but walking by the building he later was able to identify gothique marks as well, especially with some more decorated windows, or the facade of the building. As he had found out they reached towards it from behind, which, admit it, isn't the best way to know any building. Thankfully he could not see bars on any windows, which was a calming sign for him about this place isn't an asylum.

They were standing by a huge iron gate and Father Mansart rang the bell and pulled Erik closer to himself by the arm. He leaned closer to the boy and softly asked him to be polite, but not to talk too much. It wasn't a problem for Erik, as he hated talking in general anyway. Not much later he saw another priest walking towards them, and opening the gate for them. The priest was examining him a bit of awkwardly, but he said nothing hurtful to Erik, on the contrary, he shook Father Mansart's hand and politely greeted them.

\- He is Erik, the boy I was talking to you about, Father. - Mansart pointed at Erik who, like how he was strictly trained by Mother of what to do when he is being introduced to someone, bowed mechanically.

\- Laudetur. It is a pleasure to meet you Father. My name is Erik. I hope you are in good health.

After he successfully and mechanically rattled off the sentences Mother bet into him literally and painfully, and he received the surprised looks and realizations by that priest about he was "surprisingly polite", Erik was finally able to follow those two into the building, holding his suitcase and violin. He was politely asked to sit down on a wooden bench in a long but well-lit hallway while Father Mansart and the other priest walked into a room with a huge wooden door. Massive door. Erik wondered what an effort it should require to break into it if needed, and started to get worried about the inhabitants in case of fire. Why does he always have to think about catastrophes happening, he wondered? He gently placed the violin case next to himself on the bench and started idly playing with his fingers while waiting. The walls were white, with no decorations at all, and Erik found it rather boring. Why the Hell they won't, at least draw something on them, but maybe because they hate when someone makes the walls more beautiful, just like Mother did. He never understood why was it such a huge sin to make something less boring, and to put some efforts into making the surroundings reflecting more of one's personality. Why people love white walls? They get dirty and need repaint or to be whitewashed frequently. Unpractical. Black is a good color, no dirt can be seen on it easily and white chalk drawings look stunning on them.

He did not have more time to think about wall coloring and the benefits of any colors because the welcoming priest came out of the room, and some moments later Father Mansart followed him too.

\- Erik, I have to go back to Boscherville. I hope you are going to feel well here, but promise me you will keep in mind what I have told you in the carriage. Will you?

\- I will. - He nodded.

\- Good. - Father Mansart nodded. - Remember, it is an important lesson.

\- I understand, Father.

\- Take care, Erik and be a good boy… Are you sending a message for your Mother?

\- No. - Erik shook his head, hanging his head low.

"She won't be interested of it, whatever I might say." Erik thought to himself. The Father shook his head sadly and walked away, leaving Erik with the other priest.

\- I am Father Louis. - The man looked at Erik. - Come with me, I show you the room you are going to stay in.

Such a long hallway, with many side halls and relatively few doors and windows. One might really consider this as a prison, with the stone floor and undecorated walls. He wasn't used to so puritan surroundings, Mother's house was lavishly decorated, filled with furniture and ornaments, silly porcelain figurines on each shelf and mantelpiece, with clocks and lace overlays on top of each armchairs. The room they entered in wasn't any richer than the rest of the house he had already seen, there were 20 iron beds, 8 and 8 of them placed by the two longer walls, with only as much place left between them so that the children were able to get up without kicking each other, and a small end table squeezed between two beds would fit, and which he liked more in the room, 2-2 beds were by the shorter walls and there were slightly more space between those. He picked out the bed on the left, closest to the wall and further form anyone else, only the child next to him would be able to see and reach him, but he will better not to, anyway. He put his suitcase on the bed, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was startled, not being used to being touched.

\- No, no, Erik, it is not your bed.

\- Why? No one is here, am I not free to pick?

\- I am afraid not. Everyone has the bed with their number on it. Your number is 29.

Examining the beds more Erik now was able to see the numbers carved on the wall above the beds on a small wooden plate, and the number 29 was written above the worst-placed bed for him ever. It was exactly in the middle of the row of beds on the right. Oh no way will he sleep between four other boys, squeezed among them.

\- Each of the boys has a number to make it easier to was their clothes and organize their beds. - The priest explained. - Always be exact, Erik.

\- Can't I have another number? For example 44? - He pointed at the plate number in front of him above the desired bed.

\- No, Erik, you are number 29, and your bed should have the same number. Accept it.

Erik did not think too much about the problem and its solution, he simply walked to the bed he was ordered to take, caught the plate above it and walked back to put the number above the bed he wanted to have instead.

Father Louis could not say a word at first because of the shock he received, seeing such a rebellious act, but after he grabbed the now gladly and contently furnishing Erik by the arm, and without saying anything to the child, he pulled him across the hallway and they hurried to a chapel. Erik was strictly ordered to confess his sin, then was left there alone with the priest in the confessional booth.

\- Tell me your sin, my boy. - The tired voice of the father came from the other side.

\- Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. - Erik started the process he was taught to by Father Mansart long time ago. - I have exchanged two numbers and caused a Mathematical in-equation rather lousy, as now 29 is placed after 43. I realize it is a mistake I had made.

\- But… it is not a sin… it is just a mistake… - The priest gasped in surprise.

\- So will you absolve me, Father? - Erik asked innocently.

\- There is nothing to absolve you of, but if it makes you feel better, my son, you are forgiven and go with peace.

Erik left the chapel and was grinning like a madman, knowing Father Louis now will have to admit he was clever for solving this stupid issue so quickly and effectively. He returned to the room, where the Father was standing by his bed, and pointed at the wall with the now replaced number.

\- Are you absolved?

\- The Father told me it wasn't a sin I committed. - Erik retorted. - Only a mistake. People make mistakes, don't they?

\- I now understand why Father Mansart told me you were a hard case to handle. I thank God you arrived two days earlier than your classmates. What would I do to you among 18 other boys when you alone need a priest's constant attention.

\- But exactly that's what I have enough of, Father: constant attention.

\- God in Heaven , help me. You are a stubborn boy, are you? Do you know what we do to stubborn children?

\- What? - Erik asked back, packing his suitcase back on bed 44.

\- Do what you please for now, but you will receive a punishment for your behavior once school starts, just wait for it. - The Father waved helplessly in the air and left Erik in the room alone to think.

He did not want to think though, as he reached for his violin, eagerly to practice. Playing his favorite pieces for a time filled the room and the hallway nearby, and some priests curiously walked to the door to see who was playing, including Father Louis. The school was empty of children, as they should arrive only two days later and school started the next week, but the headmaster understood the issue of Erik arriving from the literal other end of the country, so he was allowed to arrive earlier. Father Louis had to admit the boy was an excellent violinist, contrary to his young age, and such a talent must only come from God, so maybe the boy was just mistreated, and does not know how to go by rules. Neither of the priests knew exactly why Erik is wearing a mask, only the headmaster, but he ordered them not to look behind the mask and not to ask the child about the mask as "he has a good reason to wear it for everyone's good", so they decided rather not to bother the, however strange subject.

Erik, during those two days until the arrival of other children, behaved well and often helped the Fathers by himself, not even being asked to do so, so it moved Father Louis's heart and decided in the end Erik might receive the bed he wanted to have from the first moment, and Erik's number was changed from 29 to 44. This was the first battle out of the very few examples at this place which Erik had successfully won.

He was happy to lay down on the bed he wished to have as his own and was whistling peacefully, when someone else entered the dorm. It was a young boy, about in Erik's age, shorter than Erik, with brown hair and a considerable amount of freckles.

\- Who are you? - That one asked upon noticing Erik. His voice wasn't a pleasant one either, Erik found it too high-pitched and squeaky. When the boy opened his mouth Erik noticed he had two large teeth at the front, so he wasn't a decorative child the least.

\- Erik.- Erik only replied by his name, not really liking the fact he was bothered while reading and whistling. The boy had disturbed his favorite activities and Erik did not like when that had happened.

\- My name is Francois. - That one continued.

\- Good for you. - Erik nodded with a tired sigh, trying to concentrate on his book.

\- How old are you?

This thing does not want to shut his face.

\- Eight and a half.

\- I am just seven. But mother told me I am going to be eight.

\- Sure. - Erik sighed upon hearing such a trivial talk. - Unless you die of smallpox in a year. - He added, hoping the boy will finally stop talking to him.

No, the thing was curious and walked closer.

\- What's that on your face?

\- Haven't you seen a mask in your short and simple life? - Erik retorted, not being pleased about the boy talking about the mask.

\- It is a nice mask. Do you want to be friends? - The child went on.

\- Friends?

Erik dropped the book. Mother had told him before he will never have a friend because he was insufferable and no one shall like him ever. And here they are at school, far from home, and this annoying little boy wants to be his friend even contrary to him being extremely rude. He knew he was rude, Mother would have beaten him for half of these nasty sentences already and the boy still wanted to continue talking.

\- Doesn't it bother you I wear a mask all the time and I was unkind to you?

\- No. I think you just miss your Mommy. I miss Mommy too. - He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and partly his nose too which move disgusted Erik a bit.

\- Don't you have a handkerchief? - He sighed.

\- No. I lost it and the Father is going to punish me because I lost it… I lose everything…

\- Here is mine, but please stop crying and come here.

The boy walked to Erik and with a hopeful expression he sat down at the edge of Erik's bed.

\- So can we be friends? Please. No one wants to be my friend.

\- I feel your pain. - Erik nodded. - Yes, we can. Can you play cards?

\- No.

\- I'll teach you. - Erik offered.

During the evening a lot of boys arrived to the dorm and it was finally filled up. All of them except Francois, who was so happy to finally have a friend, looked at Erik suspiciously and made remarks about the mask, but Erik did nt pay attention to them and did not say a single word to any of them, he was only talking to Francois who was following him around like a puppy. It was apparent that the boys did not like Francois and they told jokes about the little idiot had found a strange kid to be friends with and that they had made a perfect match, but they did not approach them. On the contrary, they exclaimed out loud they did not want to be near any of them. Erik was only happy about that. The bed next to his happened to be Francois's place. This made Francois happy and Erik delighted. At least none of the others come too close to him, and Francois won't remove his mask in his sleep. He decided to leave the mask on for the night as well, contrary to his habit at home, as he was placed in a room full of children. No risking showing his uncovered face to the others. He was avoided and despised enough with the mask on as well. He warned Francois numerous times not to remove his mask, and the small boy agreed to that every time.

The night flew away in peace, surprisingly well, and Erik was awoken by a bell ringing. He did not know at first what on Earth was happening, but after he realized where he was and what was going on. They had absolutely no privacy as the boys had to wash and dress in front of each other so Erik was obliged to wash his face in mask, and the boys found it hilarious and something to laugh at.

\- Don't laugh at my best friend! - Francois yelled at them.

\- Best? You have only one friend! - A boy pouted, pushing Francois, causing him to slip and fell into a basin. Everyone laughed again… until Erik grabbed the boy by the collar and pushed his head into another basin filled with soapy water, pushing his whole head down.

\- What in the name of Jesus Christ this scandal is?

Father Louis stormed into the room, noticing the scene taking place.

\- You were able to dress in peace before. - The Father said strictly, looking around. There were two huge puddles of soapy water spilled onto the floor, a soaked Francois just climbing out of the basin and the other boy with his head all wet, coughing.

\- Who is responsible for this chaos? - Father Louis thundered.

\- Him. - About ten boys pointed at Erik.

\- Nonsense. - Erik growled. - He started it. - He pointed at the boy who pushed Francois.

\- It wasn't me.

\- But yes, you pushed Francois. - Erik went on.

\- He slipped. - The boy denied. - And he wanted to kill me. - He pointed at Erik again.

\- If I wanted to, you would already be dead.

\- Stop this nonsense boys! - The Father pointed at the door impatiently. - You have five minutes to go to Mass. And you- he pointed at Erik- you clean up the mess you have made.

\- It wasn't me and I am not going to. - Erik stated.

\- You stay here until you finish! And you receive no food or drink until you do so, so I would hurry in your shoes. No wonder Father Mansart warned me.

Erik knelt down to mop up the water with a sigh, and he was finally allowed to go to Mass, but he was later punished for being late from morning Mass. After Mass they received breakfast which contained some cold toast and mildly warm bitter tea, and after they had to walk to start the first lesson.

Mathematics.

Erik was finally happy at least they were going to study something, so he followed the crowd of boys to a room full of wooden benches and desks in front of them. The teacher, another priest, called Erik by his side at the beginning of the lesson and pointed at him.

\- He is your new classmate. His name is Erik. Welcome him with neighbor love.

Some whispering about a mask could be heard until the Father slammed the desk with a stick.

\- Silentium!

Everyone felt silent, but the strict and unfriendly looks did not cease to be existent.

\- Well, Erik, search a place for yourself and sit down. You are going to sit there for the rest of the year.

As Erik started walking between the rows, the children blocked his way at each empty seat he had found, by either sitting at the two edges of a three- person wide bench so he couldn't fit there, or hissed at him "You are not sitting here" softly. Poor little Francois was sitting between two other boys and so he could not ask Erik to sit beside him, and finally Erik had to sit down alone at the back row. The teacher nodded when Erik finally sat down, noticing nothing of the scene, and guessed Erik just wanted to sit alone.

\- Firstly, boys, we shall repeat what we had learned last year…

And Erik found himself in the middle of a boring Mathematics lesson where these children had to recite back the multiplication tables, and Erik was yawning of boredom.

No one had told him school was going to be like this… he thought it will be interesting.


	4. Absence makes the heart grow fonder

Madeleine was sitting in front of the fireplace in an armchair, trying to work on some knitting, but the monotone work wasn't enough to occupy her racing mind and make her forget about the dog's painful and heartbreaking howls coming from the hall. Sasha was sitting in front of the front door of the house and would not stop whining and howling. She only took a break when she ran out of breath for a few minutes, then she would wheeze a bit, but the saddening, depressing and annoying sound of her sorrow started over after some time passing in silence.

\- Sasha! Stop it, God bless you! - Madeleine called out with irritation after having to listen to Sasha for 4 hours straight already that day. The past week was a nightmare anyway, the spaniel simply did not want to obey her anymore, no matter what she ordered or asked of her, and she would hardly eat anything. She drank some, but eating was a miracle if she did it. Madeleine was sorry for the poor animal, worrying over she might get ill and maybe even die of sorrow missing her owner in a short time if things weren't going to change soon. To tell the truth, Madeleine did not have any contact with Sasha in the past 5 years or so, since she was mostly with Erik, and the boy learned how to take care of an animal. He fed her, he took her out in the garden for walks, he bathed her, carried her up and downstairs when she grew too old to walk on her own without a considerable amount of pain, he took long hours to brush Sasha's fur so her falling out fur won't bother her and she weren't going to lose fur on Madeleine's most precious carpets, and Sasha literally followed Erik everywhere. The boy taught her to numerous tricks and games, she loved to fetch sticks or balls for Erik, she would play dead, give her paw for him, give him "kisses", "sing" if he hit a few keys on the piano and told her to sing, and she would search anything Erik hid from her, and carry him anything he asked for. Many times he did not even have to tell her orders, the animal completed a task by only a glance or gesture Erik gave her. Madeleine witnessed sometimes that Erik made Sasha "talk" to him by that oh-so much hated ventriloquism, and he answered his own altered sentences coming from the dog's direction. Oh yes, the poor abandoned child was lonely, she snorted, not wanting to think about it was her in the first place who made the boy feel that way.

Still, they were inseparable before, and now Sasha lost Erik for good. No, he won't come back home, and the dog needed to understand that.

\- Sasha. Erik is away. Come here. - Madeleine tucked her head outside to see the poor animal in the Hall. She sat at that same exact spot where she had sat always in these past days. - Come, Sasha. - She repeated kindly.

The dog finally walked towards her with a deep sigh and such a sad expression that Madeleine had to dry some drops of tears while walking back to the salon with the hopeless animal slowly and painfully following her path. Instead of her knitting, Madeleine picked up Sasha on her lap, and contrary to the dog being heavy and leaving her fur all over her dress, which fact she did not like too much, she started petting her. Sasha did not start to wiggle her tail, but passively accepted the offered affection. Madeleine did not like to admit she missed Erik as well, just like this poor dog, she would turn towards the salon door many times to hear if Erik had opened the door to enter or not, or sometimes she wished he would play some music for her. There were times when she accidentally called out for Erik, only realizing after that the boy had been gone days ago. She thought she hated the boy and did not want to see him in the house, and imagined she would feel relief upon getting rid of him finally, so that she wouldn't have to carry that enormous and monstrous burden on her soul… she was finally freed from that monster child, and she could easily start her life over, maybe to move somewhere with Étienne where no one knows her and her life so far, marry Étienne and have normal children with him, just as the man always asked her… but as Erik left she did not feel like inviting the doctor in her home to socialize. She did not feel like socializing at all, she thought for a time it was because she had gotten used to loneliness too much and it was now hard to talk to people again. Partly it was true, but she had to realize she missed Erik.

She did not only miss him because she was too much used to his presence, and not only because what she wanted to believe, that she missed Erik's work and caretaking from the house. To tell the truth, she was always too much spoiled by the people surrounding her, her parents, Marie, Charles… and yes, by Erik, later. Even though the boy had an insufferably stubborn and sometimes too much sarcastic and not too kind in general personality, one thing was sure: Erik was hardworking and careful. He was taught to clean and take care of his belongings in a young age, and he was too much precise and tidy compared to his gender and age in the end. Boys in his age tend to be disorganized and sloppy, but Erik always cleaned and organized everything too much exactly sometimes. And the so called men's work were always done by Erik, no matter how small and young he was. By the age of 7, he was able to repair broken windows, he could fix incorrectly working doors, change or repair locks, adjust screws or chop firewood. Madeleine at first imagines she only missed the handy side of Erik, now that she had to do these all by herself. It is easy to get used to a caretaking person around you who helps you with everything you can't do, or only with great difficulty, and for that you even tend to forgive and forget his unbearable personality in return. But…

She had to admit she missed his voice, the fact she could not see the sickly thin figure slipping away in front of the door in a blink of an eye to walk upstairs, she missed to hear the endearments he was telling Sasha on his sweet voice, even the sight of the mask would be desirable in this scenario, when nothing but silence and emptiness remained for her, and she never felt this house so big before. Uncomfortably huge and abandoned. Why does she need 5 bedrooms, a huge salon, a dining room and a kitchen for herself alone? Again she tried to imagine children running around in the hallway, chasing each other, and living in the attic bedrooms, nicely furnished, but…

But she shivered by the mere thought of it. She did not want healthy and happy children around her, she did not want ANY children, nor adults, nor Étienne himself… no one but Erik.

She hugged Sasha to herself and she walked upstairs, she did not even know why. Aimlessly, as if she would want to explore the house for the first time, she was wandering, hugging Sasha. In the end she walked into Erik's room and let the spaniel go, who started sniffing around, still being able to sense Erik's smell, and for the first time for days, she looked to be at least a bit of happy. Sasha walked to her dog basket which was now placed next to Erik's bed, and she lay down there, and finally fell asleep. Madeleine did not touch anything, but sat down on the edge of the bed, and sighed deeply.

\- I hope you are well, Erik. - She whispered.

Writing a letter home wasn't an easy task. On every Friday afternoon, after lessons and writing homework, they had to write a letter home. All of the boys had parents, or at least a grandparent, older sibling, or Uncle who took care of them, and this was the only time the boys had enough free time to contact their relatives. Saturday was post-day, so if any of the boys received a reply, they were given to them on Saturday to read. Older or better educated boys were to help smaller ones to be able to write down their thoughts and feelings. Even Francois, even though he was bullied and avoided nearly as much as Erik by the other boys, had a companion at that time and they helped him out of the need of having to do so. Erik was partly relieved Francois did not ask him to write to his parents. Mother told him many times how ugly his handwriting was, nearly as ugly as his face. Francois's poor Mother would gasp and die of shame if she should have thought such a handwriting was made by her little son. So, Erik wasn't asked to help by anyone, and no one wished to help him either. Not that he would have needed help, of course, but no one asked him if he was in need of help at all. He sat alone in the back row, with a piece of paper, a bottle of ink, a fountain pen and a single white candle in front of him, and he did not know what to write. He heard sentences by the smaller ones, dictated to the older students who wrote them, which sounded like "dear Mama and Papa, I am doing great and I have learned many things…" "kiss my little sister in my name…" "I love you Mama" "Uncle, please write soon, I can't wait to hear from you…" "I send many kisses to you, Papa" and so on. Each of these sentences felt like a thorn in his heart. These kids have someone who wants to hear from them and they can send them hugs and kisses. Mother would never kiss him. She did not kiss him on his Birthday as a gift, and she would not kiss him even if he lay dead in a coffin, as a good-by kiss. These boys have someone who loves them and whom they can love. He has no one and Mother hates him with all her heart. She told him herself. It must be true. Now what to write to a person, who hates you? Would she even care to receive a letter from him, especially with his ugly handwriting? She wouldn't be able to read it anyway. But what to write? Other boys are writing about their friends and the things they did learn. Shall he write the truth?

"Dear Mother,"

He wrote down slowly, but after some thinking he outlined the word "dear". He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what he would say to her if she was here for real, but he ended up with the thought he had nothing important to tell her, so he would most likely be silent. He turned the page around so that he was going to have a clean sheet of paper again and started over:

"Mother,

It is Erik. I am healthy. Days are passing. Nothing happens. I am bored. I have a boy with me. He happens to think he likes me. I don't know why. I hope you are well and happy"

After the word happy he nearly wrote "without me" but in the end he chose not to, so he continued the letter with a period after that word.

"Please take care of Sasha. I write again next week because I have to. I am sorry for the bother."

With an irritated snort he closed the letter, folded the paper in half and put it on the edge of the desk which was a way to sign you were done with the letter so that they were able to collect the letter and send it out. Father Louis walked to Erik and asked if he was done.

\- I am. - He replied softly.

\- Are you sure? You wrote so little.

\- It is too much like this as well. She won't care to read it. - Erik murmured in front of himself.

When the nosy Father finally left him alone, Erik was silently staring into the candlelight and imagined Mother's beautiful face in front of him, and some drops of tears fell on the table in front of him from beneath the white mask. He did not only miss Sasha, whose lack ached in his heart day by day. He grew up with the dog, by her side, and he did not remember a day before when he hadn't seen her. Every time he looked down while he was writing, the loving and loyal companion looked back on him and she rested her chin on his knee mostly. He missed the soft touch of her fur and her smile… but not only that. He missed Mother. He missed her and wanted to be with her again. How could you miss someone you hate and who hates you back? How can you miss someone who beats you and says you were disgusting? How can you want t be with her even if she does not want you near her?

Why feelings must be so complicated?


	5. Mother instead of a Mother

The first month flew away so fast Erik did not really notice it was already October, only by the fact they were writing the current date on the top of the blackboard every single day, and that the huge trees in the school garden started to dress in yellow, and were slowly getting ready for undressing for the winter season. The days were following each other in a painful monotonous path. Erik, not being used to having obligatory times to calculate, to write and to do anything, handled this with a hardly distracted irritability. No one had ever told him before when to do tasks, he was free to spend his free time as he pleased, and he had way too little time for music. This was killing him inside, as he was literally made of music, and it was always with him. In his mind, in his every move, in his voice. He was often scolded for "not paying attention" in class, while the others had to solve a ridiculous multiplication, for example, or when they were reading the Bible out loud. He knew these passages well enough, Mother made him read the Bible every day at home as well, and it was boring enough at home as well, but here, where some boys were reading so painfully slowly and with great difficulty, which fact irritated him to no end, he was bored even more so. Are these kids mentally retarded, or why can't they read a few lines without stuttering and starting a simple word over for 4 times? He was involuntarily playing drums with his fingers on the top of the desk in front of him, and the teacher scolded him for it repeatedly.

Other boys did not like to interact with him, which fact he did not mind too much, as he really did not think too highly of any of them. Except maybe Francois, who followed him the whole day like a miserable puppy. Erik felt like they were a great couple- two outcasts together. Francois was way too girly for his taste, the boy cried over literally anything, and he wasn't able to answer a simple question of Math. Erik snorted angrily and shook his masked head in dismay when Francois did not know the solution for four times five. For a reason, he at least understood why the boys were always laughing at him. Francois was really not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and wasn't the luckiest with his appearance and attitude either. Erik was just passively accepting his constant presence and was trying his best to be good to that one child who did not point at him constantly, and wasn't whispering about his mask behind his back. Francois seemed to accept the term about not being allowed to remove the mask, or peek behind it, and he did not ask why Erik wore it. Erik was trying to help Francois with calculating and tried to explain him how Math worked, and the boy seemed to develop slowly, even though Erik sighed in irritation when the boy started counting on his fingers.

Erik did not receive anything but perfect grades in everything but Grammar. No, he did not ruin his reputation in said field either by grammatical errors or lousy spelling, but his awful-looking handwriting, which he wasn't able to turn to the nicer, ever. Making matters worse Erik was always using the "wrong hand" to write, and he was endlessly picked on about it. Erik now had to learn another lesson: no matter how much an eminent you might be in every field, everyone shall remember and repeat the only one you are bad at. The priests made him practice writing two extra hours daily, which made him furious as Hell, and he ended up smashing a full ink of blue bottle against the wall. The father did not say anything regarding his act and yelling, he only grabbed Erik and bet him by a stick until he was wheezing with the effort of hitting the child's back by full force. Erik of course, did not like the beating, but it did not leave too permanent mark in his soul: just the usual thing had happened yet again. Mother did the same as well.

Yet the father was extremely surprised seeing Erik cleaned up the remaining pieces of the broken ink bottle and mopped up the ink from the floor right after being badly beaten, without being ordered to do so. Even bigger his surprise was when Erik politely asked for white paint to correct the ink-marks on the white wall. He was only able to mutter to Erik he should not bother with that, and walked to confess beating the boy so hard, after sending Erik to go to the other boys to write his homework.

Erik's excellent grades in everything else weren't making him any more popular among the other boys, of course. He was fluent in Latin, he read without mistakes and with a perfect intonation, he calculated things they did not even dare to think to understand in a billion school years to come, and he was reciting poems they never heard of before. Being so clever can't be without any punishment. A know-it all is not simply a masked kid one can laugh at anytime, it is an offense against the whole class. The teachers were going to praise him and the whole class will be called stupid soon. So, they started to silently plan a war between them and Erik. Not only they shall laugh at him from now on, but if he is so very arrogant, they shall teach him a lesson about being normal.

Erik started receiving bits of chalk and paper thrown at him from time to time during classes. Nothing serious at first, he only had to swipe off of them from his school jacket. After some days passed, they were getting braver and braver and threw bits of gum on him, and the boy sitting close enough to him learned how to kick backwards when Erik stood up to answer some kind of question. Mostly he missed, but once he succeed in kicking Erik's leg, to which act he received an enormous slap from behind, so hard he hit his nose against the desk.

\- Erik! - The priest thundered and stormed in front of the still standing masked child. - I don't tolerate this behavior in my class!

\- He kicked me. - Erik stated calmly. - He received what he asked for.

\- I did nooot! - The boy cried just as if he was being murdered.

\- You did. Lying is a sin. - Erik replied.

\- Out with you. - The priest grabbed Erik by the collar. - And you are going to stay in a separate cell for 3 days, without any of the boys around you. Alone!

\- I have always been alone. - Erik stated. - Rot you. - He barked at the still whining boy, and before the shocked priest could yell at him or gasp at this blasphemy, he left the room by himself.

Unrighteous acts always angered Erik. It was partly understandable he received punishment, but the blonde haired asshole with a big nose who kicked him wasn't punished. He told the priest who took him to the small cell numerous times to do something about the other boy as well at least, send him to confession, just as he had to confess slapping him, but the priest was just as much of an asshole as the kid, so Erik was locked in the small room alone, and he was informed he was going to stay there for 3 days straight, and wasn't receiving proper meals, only tea and toast.

\- Did you successfully run out of bread and water? - He mocked before the priest slammed the door at him.

Erik felt like he could not leave it at that. It wasn't right only he was the bad boy here when he was trying to avoid hitting the kids for days, he would actually deserve praise he did not yet beat all of them. In the cell there was only a desk with a candle, a chair, a small table with a washbasin and a pitcher full of water on it, a mattress on the floor with some rags over it, and a chamber pot. The bare necessities you could need for a few days stay. After the first wave of anger left him, he started thinking about it wasn't even that bad being here. At least here he was all alone again and no one bothered him. Being in the constant presence of other kids who always laughed at him wasn't Erik's favorite thing to do, really. He could be with his own thoughts, work on music without anyone scolding him for playing drums on the desk, he did not have to pay attention to painfully simple and boring tasks and his fantasy could fly freely. He was free. Not even Mother was here to nag him about chores he had to do around the house. If only his violin and Sasha was there with him he would not trade it for anything, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to go back among the others.

When the punishment expired though, and he was released from the cell and was ordered to go to morning mass, he learned it was Saturday. He wasn't too happy about it: Saturday was post day. Everyone received a letter and even if you got nothing, you had to stand in line, as the priests simply did not understand the concept of receiving nothing and having no one to send you anything. They told him his Mother will sure write him something. He always had to stand in line with the others to wait for the big stinky nothing he received in the end, week by week.

He was so bored he could have recited the whole school by names.

\- Laurion, Lapierre, Lautrec, Ledoux, Lefévre, Lunant, Machnell, Magouet… Michaud.

Michaud? Who is that? He never heard that name before, at any week. He blinked around curiously to see who that boy might be, who only receives a letter now. At least he is in a better situation still, than himself. Erik shall never ever receive a letter.

\- Michaud! - "Is that boy deaf?" - Erik thought to himself. Still no sign of life.

\- Michaud! Do you not hear your name? - A priest pointed at him impatiently.

\- Me? - Erik's jaw dropped behind the mask.

\- Erik Michaud, yes!

He did not know if he was dead or alive when he picked the envelope out of the priest's hand with shakey hands. At first, he never thought he was going to receive a letter here… and he did not know he had a surname like anyone else. He thought his name was Erik. Simply. Was it his father's name then… Charles Michaud?

\- Why are you always sleeping? - Father Louis scolded him. - When you are being called, react.

\- I did not know it was me.

\- What are you saying? - The Father asked with a surprise.

\- I did not know Michaud was my family name.

\- How come?

\- They never told me so.

\- But… but why did they not tell you your family name, boy? - The priest gasped.

\- Maybe because I have no family. That is why.

When Erik was finally left alone and he walked to his bed to read the letter, at first he did not dare to open it. How come Mother replied? Did she bother to write to him in the end? What can she write to him…? Maybe she will write she loved him and she misses him…? Oh no, most likely not, be still, my heart. He was hardly able to open the envelope, and closed his eyes while he was unfolding the letter. When he opened his eyes though, his heart felt like it broke in a million pieces. It wasn't Mother's writing. How could he think for a moment that Mother would write t him at all…? But… then who that might be? Curiously, but with a huge amount of disappointment, he read the addressing, which left no doubt at all in his heart who wrote the letter, even if he did not yet check the signature. The letter said:

"Erik dear"

Yes, Marie Perrault. She wrote a very kind letter to him, asking how he was feeling, tellig him to be a good boy and she promised she will never leave his mother all alone and will watch over her, so he does not have to worry over her. She called him a clever boy, she stated she knew Erik was already a great student as he can't be anything else, she asked him if he was well and happy, and asked him to write back to her if he wanted to. She assured him it wasn't a bother for her if she received a letter from Erik and she will be happy to hear from him anytime. And with the letter came a single franc bill. Marie told Erik in the letter to spend it on anything he needed, and told him he deserved it for his grades.

Erik was speechless. Reading the letter he could not believe his eyes, and read it over and over. He checked the franc as well, again and again, if he could see it perfectly, but the letter and the money were also real. The letter was full of the kindest words he had ever seen about himself, and the fact Marie always used his name as "Erik dear" wasn't even so much funny now as it used to be before, when Erik used to mock Marie for this habit behind her back. He now saw the words "Erik dear" as the most heartfelt and beautiful prayer. He could not handle his upcoming emotions ever more, and he hid the letter and the money under his pillow, buried his face in it, and started crying hard.

Much time had passed when he heard he wasn't the only one crying in there, so he lifted his head up. Of course, the small crybaby was Francois.

\- Why are you crying? - Erik sniffed with irritation.

\- Mama… Mama… - The boy sobbed, and Erik instantly realized it wasn't Francois's usual childish whining. He was crying seriously.

\- Your mother? What is with her? - Erik moved closer to comfort the younger boy in more need of help.

\- Auntie wrote she is very ill and coughing. - Francois said desperately hugging Erik.

\- And so? She will get better. - Erik shrugged, not understanding right away why people always pronounced the word "coughing" with such an emphasis in this case.

\- I am afraid my Mama is… going to… leave me… - He sobbed harder.

\- Oh. - Erik snorted, now understanding some of it. - Well, that is a hard thing my friend. Indeed. I would gladly give you mine so you won't be alone, but she has a heart of stone, she is not a good Mother to change for.

\- But… but now what shall I do…?

\- Wait. - Erik patted the small boy's shoulder. - Just wait. You can't do anything else. But I think she will get better.

\- Do you… promise? - Francois looked up at Erik with hopeful expression.

\- I promise. - Erik nodded reassuringly, knowing the boy shall at least temporarily calm down.

Francois nodded and lay down after a hard crying, and Erik wondered for a few minutes about the awful truth. This boy is loved by his Mother and maybe he was going to lose her soon. His mother hates him with all her heart, and she is fine, living without him. And Mlle Perrault, though she had nothing to do with him by bloodline, and he moved far-far away from Boscherville for good, still is interested about him and his well-being. Who understand this?

Maybe not even God himself.


End file.
